


What's in a Name?

by grey2510



Series: Light's Grace!verse [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fallen Angel Castiel, Family, M/M, Name Changes, POV Dean Winchester, Same-Sex Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 14:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4224798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey2510/pseuds/grey2510
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>June 26, 2015: Same sex marriage is legalized. Dean doesn't want things to change between him and Cas.</p><p>(So yes, this is the obligatory same-sex marriage fic (kinda), and in terms of the series' timeline, it takes place earlier than the latest installments I've written, so I've tried to make it fit the 'canon' of the Light's Grace!verse without retconning...or going out of character. You could probably read this as a stand alone piece, though.)</p><p>Canon-divergent after 10x14 and follows the events of the previous parts of the Light's Grace!verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's in a Name?

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning: if you're looking for a tooth-rotting fluff piece, this ain't it. (But for the writers who write the fluffiest fluff to ever fluff, write on! We all need our dose of d'awws and squeeeeees!) I hope you like the fic, anyway. I think it's a realistic way of incorporating SCOTUS' decision while still staying true to the characters as I've portrayed them in this series so far (which, I think, sticks pretty close to canon, but feel free to disagree). And it's a bit fluffy...in a Dean-hates-chick-flicks kinda way.
> 
>  
> 
> **LG!V TIMELINE: June 2015 (before "Finding Herself") and September 2015 (before "Forgiveness in Heaven")**  
> 

**June 26, 2015**

 

“How’s the archiving going?” Dean asks as he slides a cup of coffee across the library table for his younger brother.

“Not bad. Taking a break, checking the news,” Sam replies, taking a sip from the mug and smiling in thanks.

“Nerd. Only you would consider reading the news a ‘break.’”

Before returning to the laptop screen, Sam shoots his older brother a bitchface.

“Huh,” the younger Winchester exhales as he clicks a link and scans the article. “So get this, the Supreme Court just legalized same-sex marriage in all fifty states.”

Dean quirks an eyebrow. “Really?” He sets his own mug down on the table, then digs out his phone from his front jeans pocket. “Should give Charlie a call. Bet she’s stoked,” he says as he starts to thumb through his contacts. He notices out of the corner of his eye his brother giving him an incredulous look. “What?”

“That’s it? You’re just gonna give Charlie a call?”

Dean’s brow furrows in question, then he rolls his eyes. “God, you’re not gonna make this about me and Cas, are you?”

“Shouldn’t _you?_ ” Sam replies in exasperation.  

“No! Me ‘n Cas...that’s different.”

“Different how, exactly?”

“It just…is. Whatever. Shut up. I’m calling Charlie,” the elder Winchester declares, then stalks out of the library, ignoring Sam’s second bitchface of the morning. He makes his way to the garage where he can guarantee a little privacy—he’s pretty much the only one who ever goes in there.

“Handmaiden!” Charlie exclaims when she picks up the phone, sounding even bubblier than usual, then she giggles to someone else.

“Your Highness,” Dean grins, even though she can’t see it. “You sound pretty happy. Are you...drunk?”

“Noooo,” Charlie drawls. “Well. Maybe a little.”

“Ok, I’m not really anyone to judge, but it’s not even noon.”

“What, me ‘n some Moondoor peeps are celebrating! And someone may have brought Skittles flavored vodka, and y'know, I had to try each flavor. Only polite. Taste the rainbow!”

Dean laughs fondly because he has a feeling she’s gesturing wildly and excitedly as she speaks. In the background, he can hear others talking and making merry.

“Well, congrats, Charlie. It’s a big day for you.”

“For me? What about you, my little bisexual manly man friend?”

Dean decides on the spot that Charlie is the only one who will _ever_ get to call him that, and he gives a reluctant but indulgent chuckle. “I think someone needs to cut you off…”

“Psht. Like anyone’s gonna cut off the Queen.” Charlie’s voice drops into a (bad) conspiratorial whisper. “Sooooo...what’s this mean for my favorite handmaiden and Mr. McDreamy McSmiterson?”

“You do realize Cas can’t actually smite anyone anymore, right?"

“Don’t be dissing my bestie. Cas can still kick ass and you know it. Now I command you, as your Queen, to answer my question.”

“Doesn’t change anything, Charlie. Me ‘n Cas are still just me ‘n Cas.” Dean scuffs a boot on the concrete floor.

“Oooh. Ok.” Charlie pauses. “You’re backing up into the closet again, aren't you? I know you, Winchester—denial and repression are like your favorite tactics whenever things start to get good.”

“No! I’m fine. _Fine._ And I’m not denying or repressing anything!”

“Sure sure. So how come you’re not all super pumped about the law changing?”

“I am—I called you to celebrate with you!”

“Yeah, so you’re excited for _me_ , but not for _you._ ”

Dean sighs, grumbles, and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I dunno, Charlie. I’m not even used to calling him my _partner_. Besides, we haven’t been _together_ together that long. I was with Lisa for a year and the word marriage never came up!”

Sighing loudly into the phone, Charlie replies, “Alright, alright, I get it. It’s not like I’m running off to the courthouse with anyone today.”

“Good. Can you explain that to Sam? Dude’s gonna hound me all day. Week. Month. Year. You get the picture.”

“Uh-uh. No way am I getting into the middle of Winchester miscommunication. Have fun with that, though!”

“Great. Thanks.” Dean rolls his eyes. “Charlie, I haven’t even told Cas yet.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Shut up. I don’t think Cas’ll care, though. I mean, he’s a fallen angel. Human laws are kinda...beneath him.”

“Maybe. He is human now, though.”

“Biologically, sure. But mentally? He’ll always be an angel in a lot of ways.” Dean thinks of how Cas once compared becoming human to the former angel's original (and on-going) confusion about the many pop-culture references Dean would make, but having that kind of confusion exist for _everything_ in his daily life. Cas really deserves a medal for not having a mental breakdown or dozen every goddamn day. Plus, Cas already deals with enough of Dean's hang-ups—why add the marriage question to the pile?

“Fair enough,” Charlie agrees. She sighs. “Well, it’s at least nice to know you guys have the option someday, if you want it.”

“Thanks, Charlie. Same for you. Go have another round of rainbow shots for me,” Dean encourages.

“Usually I don’t take kindly to orders from my royal staff, but today I’ll make an exception. Catch ya later, dude,” Charlie giggles, then hangs up. Dean grins as her contact picture flashes up on the screen again as the call ends, and he repockets his phone.

 

 

**September 3-4, 2015**

 

“Cas’ birthday’s coming up,” Claire suddenly declares over her bowl of cereal. Dean looks up from his own bowl, doing some very slow mental calculations with his brow furrowed in concentration (the coffee hasn’t quite kicked in yet).

“Fifteen days, right?” 

Claire nods, and Dean shrugs. Claire had decided that everyone needs a birthday, fallen angel or not; collectively, they had decided on September 18. It was the day Dean was raised from Hell, and apparently Hester was right: rescuing Dean from the Pit was the beginning of Cas’ fall. So, it seemed an appropriate choice. But, the Winchesters have never been big on celebrating birthdays, meaning Cas’ birthday has slipped the hunter’s mind.

“So what’re you gonna get him?” Claire prods, and Dean suspects that she knows full well that he hasn’t given it a thought. Sure, they’d made sure they’d celebrated Claire’s birthday back in April, but that was different: she’s a kid, so she deserves a birthday and presents and the whole shebang. But an eons-old former multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent? Kinda seems silly to bust out the streamers and cake.  

“Umm…” he mutters intelligently.

Claire snorts and smirks. “That’s what I thought.”

“Don’t look at me in that tone of voice, kiddo,” Dean replies, jabbing a finger in her direction. “We don’t do birthdays.”

“You did for me,” Claire counters.

“Well, yeah, but…” Dean sighs. “I’m not getting out of this, am I?”

“Nope,” the girl grins.

“Fine. Any ideas?” Dean scoops up the last of his cereal before it can go soggy during this conversation, which unfortunately doesn’t seem to be ending anytime soon. “I mean, he’s already got that ridiculous car, we just picked him up a new shotgun last month…”

“You’re hopeless. Hunting equipment doesn’t count as gifts.”

“Why the hell not? It’s thoughtful _and_ practical. It says, ‘hey, man, I’d really love it if you don’t get killed by some ugly-ass monster next time we’re on a hunt.’ I don’t see the issue here.”

"Hopeless," Claire repeats. She suddenly sits up. “I have an idea, if you’re gonna be so stubborn about getting him hunting crap.”

“Yeah? Machete? My spare’s kinda nicked up...should get him one of his own…”

“No, dumbass. New IDs.”

Dean tilts his head and stares at Claire in confusion. “What for? He’s got the whole set—FBI, Federal Marshals, state police, journalists…”

“No, no. Ok, fine, so my idea isn’t _quite_ about hunting, but it’s kinda related. Look, Cas has all these fake IDs, but he doesn’t have any that are actually _his,_ with his real name and info on it.”

“Well, yeah. Angels don’t exactly have Social Security Numbers...or last names, for that matter.” Suddenly Dean’s eyes grow wide as he clues in to what Claire’s angling at. “You want to create a real identity for him. And I’m guessing you already have a last name all picked out? And I’m guessing it ain’t Novak ‘cause that’d just be too weird—Cas hates using your dad’s ID. Thinks it’s disrespectful.”

“Yeah, I know he does. Can’t say I’m crazy about it either, but it made sense when I was in high school and a minor. And no, I was thinking Winchester would probably be a good last name.”

Dean can feel the heat rising up the back of his neck. This just seems like such a big step, but at the same time, he can’t say he’s never thought about it. And he knows it’d make Cas’ day. Cas Winchester. The guy’s been an honorary Winchester for years now, so it makes sense. But now, he can’t just pull off the whole “we’re just bros” family shtick— _not_ that he would ever go back to that with Cas. So if Cas is gonna become an official Winchester…

“You do realize you’re basically asking me to propose, right?” Dean grumbles.

“Well, kinda, yeah…But, come on, you’re practically married as it is. And it's legal now. And…”

“Claire, do I look like a chick-flick down on one knee kind of a guy?”

“Do you really want me to answer that question?” Claire snarks with a grin, earning a deep scowl from the hunter. “Look, if you don’t want to go the mushy route, think about it this way: if something ever happened to either of you, it’d be easier to claim next of kin without having to make some shit up.”

“I’ll think about it,” Dean grouses, and gets up to clear his bowl.

And he does think about it. All day. And all the next day. He thinks about it so much that Cas asks several times what’s wrong or comments that Dean seems distracted. Dean says “nothing,” but really it’s two words that are distracting him: Cas Winchester. He wouldn’t make the IDs say “Castiel”—Castiel is an angel with a stick up his ass; Cas, though, is his best friend, his partner— _Cas_ is a Winchester.

It finally reaches a breaking point as they get ready for bed on the second night. Cas pulls a t-shirt over his head, and his eyes narrow once they resurface. Dean is sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes pointed at the landscape pictures on Cas’ side of the room, but they’re unfocused and not really seeing anything.

Cas sighs in exasperation, and Dean jolts to attention. “Dean, what the hell is going on? And please do not insult my intelligence by claiming ‘nothing’ or ‘I’m fine’ like you have been for the past two days. Clearly, there’s something bothering you.”

Dean hurls himself up off the bed, his frustration suddenly boiling over. And the worst part is, he _knows_ he’s gonna look and sound like a jackass. But he can’t help it. Maybe the shrinks are right—bottling this stuff up just creates a powder keg. Not that Dean plans on taking shrink advice anytime soon.

“Your freaking birthday’s stressing me out, that’s what’s going on!” he blurts, and if he wasn’t so out of sorts, he might have burst out laughing at Cas’ combination of head-tilt and wide-eyed confusion.

“Dean, I’m not sure why my so-called ‘birthday’ is causing you such anxiety, especially considering that it is still two weeks away, and as a former angel, I hardly see the need to have a ‘birthday’ in the first place, except that Claire insists on it.”

Dean shakes his head, trying to get his tongue around an explanation. “No, I mean, it’s not about you _having_ a birthday. Claire suggested a present for you and it’s been messing with my head.”

“Oh? You know I don’t require any gifts.”

“Yeah, but this is one that I kinda want to give you, but it’s a big step and it’s freaking me the fuck out, and I don’t wanna just spring it on you or give you the wrong idea.” Dean paces back and forth before coming to a stop by the closet door and crossing his arms.

Cas mimics the arm gesture, though he seems far more relaxed than Dean. “Can you tell me about it? I know humans place a great deal of emphasis on the surprise element of gift-giving, but if it’s causing you this much distress, perhaps it’s better for us to discuss it. I can always ‘play along’ later and pretend I didn’t know what it was, if you still insist on giving the present.”

Dean chuckles, his brain automatically supplying an image of Cas trying to ‘play along’—implied air quotes and all—and just being awkward as all fuck (in an adorable way...not that Dean Winchester would ever call Cas adorable. Nope. No way.). His brain also apparently has a warped sense of humor and provides this mental version of Cas with a sparkly party hat.

He looks to Cas, who is regarding him expectantly and hopefully. He sighs and decides to just rip the bandaid off and go for it. “Claire wants to get you your own set of IDs. With your real name on them.”

Cas raises an eyebrow. “I was not aware the United States government issued identification to Angels of the Lord,” he deadpans.

“No, Cas. Like, it would say ‘Cas...Winchester’ on it.” The words hang in the air, and Dean feels the desperate need to fill the space. “‘Cause you know, you’re family, and you have been for years, and I know you hate using Jimmy’s ID, so Novak’s out of the question, and I know Sam wouldn’t mind sharing our name with you…”

“Dean, stop.”

The hunter’s jaw clamps shut, biting off the stream of babble. Internally, he panics— _this is a dumb idea this was stupid Cas is gonna say no…_

“Dean, do _you_ want to share your name with me?” Cas squints at Dean.

“I mean, yeah, Cas…You know, if you wanted it. You could always pick your own name, though.”

Cas snorts. “What other name would I _possibly_ want? The Winchesters, you particularly, are why I am human and require a human name in the first place.”

“Well, when you put it like that… Way to make it sound so simple and reasonable, Cas.”

“Aren’t those good qualities?”

“Yes, but… I mean, if we made you a Winchester…” Dean half-explains as he resumes pacing.

Understanding finally reaches Cas and he purses his lips. “Ah. If I took your name, the assumption would be that we are married, since we could hardly claim any other familial relationship. And you are not comfortable with that.”

The former angel’s face falls almost imperceptibly, but Dean can read the guy like a book. _Fuck fuck fuck._ He’s messed it up again.

“Cas, it’s not that I’m not comfortable with this, with us,” he explains desperately, wagging a finger between the two of them. “It’s just... _marriage_ , ya know? I mean, that’s like wedding bells and rings and shit, and I just don’t _do_ that. I never even talked about it with…” Dean stops himself guiltily.

“...with Lisa?” Cas supplies, his voice carefully neutral.

Dean swallows. “Yeah.”

Cas moves forward to the bed and sits, crooking one leg up on the mattress in front of him, while the other remains planted on the floor. “True human marriage is just a mortal representation of spiritual love. ‘Normal’ people,” Cas smiles at this, “do not have the...luxury...of literally binding their souls, or Grace, like we did.”

“Wait,” Dean sputters, “are you saying we’re already, what, angel married or something?”

Cas just gives Dean a withering look. “Dean, why did it have to be _my_ Grace in Metatron’s spell to lock Heaven?”

“Because all the ingredients were about love and the last was the Grace of an angel in love with a human,” Dean admits, his eyes flicking to the floor.

“And why did it have to be _my_ Grace that saved you from the Mark?”

“Becauseyouloveme,” Dean mumbles quickly.

“And why did we fight _constantly_ in the days leading up to me passing my Grace to you? Why didn’t Sam and Claire and I just strap you down and give you my Grace once we discovered it could cure the Mark?”

“Because I had to accept it,” Dean mutters, his voice barely over a whisper.

“And we both know what you mean by that,” Cas says softly. The former angel sighs. “You are an exasperating human, Dean Winchester.”

Dean’s eyes find Cas’, and he is relieved to see the corners of those blue eyes are crinkled.

“Yeah, I know,” Dean concedes. He straightens up, then tries to steer the conversation out of these murky romantic waters. “Besides, Claire brought up a good point: having official IDs would mean if anything ever happened to one of us, like we did something stupid—and let’s face it, we know that’s pretty much a guarantee—we can get hospital rights and shit. So, you know, it’s only logical and practical. And, now that it’s legal everywhere we wouldn’t have to say we’re from Massachusetts or Vermont or something.”

Cas laughs. “Exasperating,” he repeats and shakes his head. He gets up off the bed, and crosses the room to give Dean a swift peck. “Come to bed,” he says, kissing Dean again and taking him by the hand. Dean complies, and while he feels somewhat better, it still takes a few hours for his brain to shut off and to fall into a restless sleep.

 

 

**September 18, 2015**

 

A new wallet, a new license, a new birth certificate. The former angel smiles broadly as Claire and Dean present the birthday gift.

Sam gives Cas a beautiful leather-bound journal with thick, creamy, blank pages. Charlie gives a large coffee-table book of colorful images of the world, from screen captures of microscope slides, to flora and fauna, to landscapes, to satellite shots. For each, Cas flips through them eagerly, already imagining what he will write or draw in the journal, and soaking up the beauty of the glossy images in the book.

The pie is demolished—because of course Dean made birthday pie instead of birthday cake—and eventually they all disperse to their respective rooms, comfortably full of beer and dessert.

When they reach their bedroom, Dean goes over to the nightstand on his side of the bed and digs an envelope out of the top drawer. Cas looks at it, puzzled, as Dean runs his fingers over it nervously. The hunter then takes out the paper inside, and holds it out to Cas.

Cas stares at the words stamped across the top. “A marriage license?”

“Uh, yeah.” Dean scratches the back of his head. “Look, I’m gonna be completely honest, I still get freaked out at the idea. And it has nothing to do with you, like you know that, right?”

“Of course I do, Dean.”

Dean breathes out a sigh of relief. “And I know the ID and the birth certificate and everything are technically fake, but I kind of wanted this one part to be...not as fake.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Well, I’m not proposing. None of that down on one knee shit, and I just don’t see us renting tuxes or even hitting up a JP. And I don’t think I’ll ever get used to a word like ‘husband’ because well...you know me: I’m barely used to ‘partner’, and I kinda like it better anyway, to be honest.”

“Ever the romantic,” Cas rolls his eyes and smiles.

“Shut up,” Dean grumbles automatically with a self-conscious laugh. _Smooth, Winchester. This is like if an asshole and a chick-flick had a bastard love child. Why does he put up with me again?_ “Anyway, the certificate needs signatures. I asked Claire and Sam already to sign as witnesses, Charlie forged a signature as an officiant. It just needs ours. If, you know, you want to.”

“Are you sure, Dean?” Cas asks, his eyes full of concern and hope.

“Yes. No. Both, I guess.”

“I believe this is what humans refer to as ‘cold feet.’”

Dean barks a laugh. “Still the nerd angel.”

“And I believe there is another expression having to do with glass houses and stones that would be appropriate here,” Cas retorts dryly. "And another about pots and kettles."

“You’re a sarcastic sonofabitch, you know that?”

“You might have mentioned it.”

But by now, any hope Dean had of being at all serious is lost, and he’s laughing fully. Yeah, this definitely isn’t how he pictured this moment going _at all_. Although, a part of Dean reminds him that it’s even weirder that he pictured this moment in one form or another in the first place.

Cas looks down at the paper, studying the blank lines at the bottom of the form. He hands it back to Dean. “I want to sign, but only if you are ready.”

Dean looks at the paper, freezes for a split second, then takes it from Cas’ grasp. He fishes a ballpoint out of his back pocket and hastily scribbles “Dean Winchester”—it comes out extremely messy and barely legible, and Dean reflects how infrequently he actually signs his own name—before returning the paper to Cas with the pen.

And damn if Cas’ smile doesn’t light up the whole fucking room.

**Author's Note:**

> According to Cas' birth certificate, his birth name is either Cas Novak (as an homage to Jimmy's sacrifice) or Cas Singer (because I think in a weird way, Bobby kinda considered Cas "one of the boys", without forgetting just who/what Cas really is). But this way, the marriage license wouldn't say Cas Winchester is marrying Dean Winchester...we already have Wincest fan fiction for that kind of relationship.
> 
>    
> Oh and I've decided, after writing the bit about Metatron's spell to kick out the angels and make them live with humans, that Metatron basically has the maturity of an eight year old (no offense, eight year olds...and what the hell are you doing on AO3 anyway?) with all the human/angel love ingredients: the Nephilim's heart, the cupid's bow, the Grace of an angel (in love with a human).... The spell could've been summed up in one schoolyard insult to Cas/the Heavenly Host: "If you love humanity so much, why don't you go marry it!"
> 
> So Cas did.
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos make my day and keep me writing. :)


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